


I Drive Alone

by LadyRithri_OfOrsinium



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - After College/University, Angst, Crying, Drivers License by Olivia Rodrige, Emotionally Hurt Castiel (Supernatural), Hurt No Comfort, Inspired by Music, M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:01:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29136720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyRithri_OfOrsinium/pseuds/LadyRithri_OfOrsinium
Summary: When Castiel goes to pick up his new car, he gets a sad reminder about the man who broke his heart, and then he can't stop the tears that follow.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20





	I Drive Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song 'Drivers License' by Olivia Rodrige.

Castiel loves classic cars, especially the classics from the 60s' and 70s'. He's never really been sure why, but he can take a guess that it has to do with his brother, Michael. Growing up in a strict, posh family home, with a CEO mother and a corporate king of a father, Castiel has always been the black sheep since birth. Even his older brother, Michael, was distant towards him at first, and with an eight year age gap between them, they have little to nothing in common, but that's where the cars come in. 

Castiel's first car show was at age fourteen, on a Friday in March. He had practically begged Michael to take him, and though he was suspicious, thinking Castiel was simply using a sudden interest in classics as an excuse to get out of school, he had changed his mind once they arrived at the show. 

Unknown to Michael, Castiel had been reading all the same magazines he'd left around the house, watched all the same car show on TV, and had done his own online research on his favorite models, because though he didn't know why he loved them, he knew that he did. 

Castiel doesn't remember the conversations he had with the other enthusiasts that day at the show, the fancy presentations, or the models on display, but he remembers seeing Michael genuinely smile for the first time, hearing him really laugh, and he differently remembers the fist-bump Michael gave him after Castiel had won a debate with some over-confident Ford salesman. The brothers became closer after that, attended many more auto shows, had many late night debates over newer models vs their predecessors, and they even went together to pick up the first classic car Michael had ever bought. 

But eventually the distance returned, and though they haven't spoken to each other now for going on three years, Castiel holds on to those memories, and he holds on to that shared love for aged automotive perfection. 

Yet it's that same love that became his ultimate downfall. 

***

As Castiel walks across the dry, dead grass of Jacob's backyard to the small detached garage, he kind of wishes he hated classic cars. Then he never would have had to know what it feels like to lose that connection with his brother, he wouldn't have to be spending over half his savings on a fifty-three year old tin can with wheels, and he never would have met Dean.

After Jacob unlocks and opens the garage door, he heads inside and pulls off the dusty cover from the car. Cas let’s his eyes adjust for a moment, and then he feels something like a wild punch to the gut that comes with seeing this car. She's as beautiful now as she was a year and a half ago, and Cas hates that. 

Finally being here in front of her again was supposed to be a happy moment, filled with excitement and love, but all he feels is numb and cold despite the sun heating through his jacket. _Fuck this car._

Jacob pulls the keys from his dirt-stained jeans and holds them out to Castiel, "She's all yours, now." His gruff voice has a tone of fatality to it, and Cas guesses it's because it took so long for the buy to go through, so he simply nods and takes the keys. 

In truth, Cas had totally forgotten about the car, it wasn't until Jacob had called last week to make sure they were still going through with the purchase, that he had realized he would now have to buy the thing completely on his own, instead of it being spilt fifty-fifty, like he and Dean had planned. Now it was costing way more of his savings than Cas had wanted to spend, only four days after graduating never mind you, but he felt bad whenever he thought about telling Jacob he had changed his mind, and wasn’t going to buy it. The man had been saving it for them for a year and a half, and Cas isn’t that much of an asshole to back out now. _Even if Dean is._

He squeezes' the keys hard enough to feel the pain of the metal dig into his palm, and it's barely enough to keep his mess of emotions from crawling up from his chest into his eyes. Jacob is apparently still talking, so he focuses on that instead. “Got her filled up yesterday, so she's good to make it back to the city without stopping. You didn't drive here alone, did ya?"

Cas clears his throat before answering, "I took an Uber, so I'll drive her back." He heads over to the driver's side and unlocks the door, the hinges squeaking as he pulls it open. The knot of misery and a tad of nausea turns in his stomach as the smell of leather and heat waft out from inside. _Fuck this car._

"Well, you boys take good care of her, now." Jacob says from behind him, and when Castiel turns to look at him, he tips his ball cap before turning back and leaving the garage.

Cas takes that as his cue to leave, and takes a deep breath before sitting in the driver's seat. He shuts the door quickly behind him, and doesn't stop to admire the interior before putting the keys in the ignition of his new 67' Chevy Impala, and starts her up. 

***

The drive back to the dorm is the hardest thing Castiel has done in the five months since Dean broke his heart and ended their relationship. The urge to just ram the car into a tree, or oncoming traffic, has never been so strong as it is now, with the rumble from the Impala's engine vibrating through the seat, and the dry cracked leather of the steering wheel warm under his hands, he can barely focus on anything else. 

She's everything Dean ever hoped she'd be, everything he'd never shut up about; she drives like a goddamn dream, and Dean will never get to find out. 

The painful sadness Cas has been suppressing all week since Jacob's call, finally takes over once he enters the city and sees Pamela's diner. He and Dean had spent hours upon hours there, after class, lunches with friends, date nights, or just a normal dinner when they were too lazy to cook. 

Meals that were always filled with never-ending conversations and gorgeous smiles. Dean's constant teasing about Cas getting a salad over Pam's moan-worthy burgers, and then letting Cas steal bites of his pie, but "only because I love you." It's easy to picture the flecks of gold in Dean's green eyes, catching the light from the diner's overhanging lamps, or the way he'd throw his head back when he laughed at Pam's fruitless attempts to flirt with Cas, or even the hand that would come up to cover half his face, as a blush spread over his freckled cheeks, when Cas said his strawberry milkshake was the _second_ best thing he'd ever tasted. 

Some of the best memories of Castiel's life happened in that diner, sitting across from the love of his life, but now he can't even look at it without feeling like he's being stabbed in the heart.

He barely has time to pull over into the parking lot of a bar that's not open yet, before the tears cloud his vision. His chest feels too tight, making it hard to breathe, and when he tries to take another breath, a sob slips through, and from there the dam breaks. His hands hurt from where he's gripping the top of the wheel so hard that his knuckles turn white, he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against the back of his hand, trying to regain control, but he knows it's hopeless. 

The only person who was ever able to calm him down, the person he still wholefully loves, isn't here. 

No, that person's back home in Kansas, probably totally unaffected from the break-up. Probably already moved on to that pretty blonde girl who spent all summer hanging off his arm, and was always calling during the school year to "check-up". _Fuck that girl._

Castiel's shoulders begin to shake as he sobs harder, the tears have become a heavy river down his face, dripping from his chin onto his lap, creating a patch of wet denim. 

“Fuck that girl!” His voice feels rough and heavy in this throat, like he’s shoving it through a crack in the wall rather than just opening his mouth. Anger is slowly seeping in, desperately trying to replace the sadness. “Goddamn it! Fuck this shit! F-fuck Dean! Fucking pa-pathetic, self-centered piece of shit!” Cas pulls back the hand he’s not resting against and slams it back against the wheel, again and again. “And fuck! This! Car!” 

***

It takes over an hour for the tears to stop, and for Cas’ breathing to steady itself enough to not come out shaky, and filled with half-choked sobs and small whimpers. 

  
His eyes hurt, almost as much at his hand, which hurts almost as much as his chest, plus there’s a killer headache setting in, and Cas feels exhausted all the way down to his bones. 

He really should get going, he still has to pack the last of his things from the dorm, and then he has to move all his boxes down to the car, so he won’t have to rush to do it tomorrow morning; but sitting slumped against the Impala’s leather seat, Cas isn’t sure he can drive right now. He takes the time to look over the interior instead, letting the minutes tick by as he inspects all the finer details that he had skipped over earlier at Jacob’s. 

Dean was right, she’s truly beautiful. 

And she’s _his._

Castiel let’s that sink in for a moment, pushing away the thoughts that overlap between Dean and the car, all the mechanic talk about her engine, all the road trip planning, and all the tiny debates about which cassettes were acceptable to play in her stereo, or what they’d name her. 

She’s his.

Castiel loves classic cars, and now he _owns_ one.  
  
A beautiful 67’ Chevy Impala is his to drive wherever and whenever he wants. His to care for, take pride in, to enjoy, and make new memories with. 

He knows there’ll always be a part of Dean living within her metal frame, incorporating her in all the “what if’s” and imaginary talks that constantly cycle through Cas’ mind, but that’s not the car’s fault. Maybe one day she’ll just be a car, without the stained veil of all the broken promises, painful heartache, and the devastating goodbye. 

Maybe one day. He can hope for that.

But for right now, Cas just takes one more deep breath, and a small sniffle after, before he pushes himself upright in the seat, and uses his palms to wipe his eyes, that became uncomfortably stiff from the dried tears. He turns the key in the ignition, and sits in the vibrations for a moment, letting the engine’s smooth rumble clear his head. A resolve for this new chapter in his life slowly starting to settle over him.   
  
Cas clears his throat before he whispers, “Alright, Baby. Let’s go.” 

And then he shifts out of park, and drives. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment below and tell me what you thought!


End file.
